An Assassin's Virtue
by Midnight's Assassin
Summary: London, England, 1869. The year after Crawford Starrick has been killed. Evie, Jacob and Henry are finding and eradicating and remaining Templar orders. That is until a new threat rises to claim Starrick's fallen throne. Have Jacob and Evie Frye met their match? Enter Cecelia Frost Let the ongoing war between assassin and Templar commence. May the best organisation win.
1. Chapter 1

An Assassin's Virtue

By Midnight's Assassin

Chapter 1:

Broken oaths and bloodied knives.

All was quiet over the sleepy city of London. Evie was about chasing a lead on an organised Templar heist, nothing to out of the ordinary for her nightly patrol. Nothing made her feel more alive than darting to and fro, over houses and under bridges, especially on a night like tonight. The figure that was Evie Frye sat perched atop the meeting point, wind on her face as the silvery moon hung silently in the sky above her.

It wasn't long before the criminals below began to stir, one spotting her shadow that was cast unto the red and tarnished bricks of the factory. Evie had to move locations if she didn't want to be compromised, so whilst donning her hood, she prepared to leap to the next roof.

Mid motion, she caught the eye of the scum beneath her, who then fired a pistol that connected with the heel of her boot, causing her to tumble onto the next home, thankfully uninjured. Thank god she had worn her thick heeled boots. The stillness of the night was interrupted by a loud thud as the young assassin landed on the shingles of the old houses, all nestled snugly in a quaint little row along Times Square. The sound grew louder when her silhouette darted behind a brick chimney, muffled footsteps followed. Evie lifted back her hood, a single lock of dark hair fell against her skin, caressing her freckled cheek.

She scouted around, hesitant to move. Before long, gunfire erupted from over the Chapple, it was time to go. With one swift flick of her wrist, she aimed and fired her grappling hook. Soaring through the air she felt safe, the cold winter moonlight reflecting her pale skin. Evie was assured a swift get away, until she felt a tingling in her gauntlet.

 _Shit._

Grabbing at her other hand, she tried to eject but her grapple line snapped, the elastic force hitting her right eye and sending her hurtling down into the midst of the English night.

* * *

Henry Green, the notorious assassin of London was once again caught up in the lowly deeds of a local Blighter robbery. Fieldwork wasn't exactly his forte, but he had been tipped off by an anonymous letter and couldn't resist the attempted chance at espionage. The only trace of the letter's author was the strange insignia signed at the bottom of the paper.

He had hidden himself on the rooftop of the bell tower opposite St Paul's Cathedral, the letter gave clear directions to the left balcony on the second floor. Watching the roads beneath him became difficult as a thick fog rolled in, blanketing the tar-pitched paths. But no matter how deep the fog, in Henry's mind, it could not spoil such a beautiful and starry night. With such declaration, surely this would be a night to remember.

Out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention, a shadow painted the side of the old rooves. When he turned his head to investigate, the shadow was gone but as mysterious and intriguing as it was, he had a mission to complete, and that was all that mattered.

Ready to move forward and attack, he honed in and assessed his first targets.

Two guards were standing by the door, the first; very scrawny, short as well, he wouldn't be much of a threat. But his stance indicated a fleeting position, and he held one hand tightly in the pocket of his coat, probably concealing a dagger. The second guard was of a very broad stature, very muscular and a mean look on his face. He cupped his left fist in the palm of his right hand, most likely a very heavy set of knuckledusters.

The occasional nervous glance from the second guard to his smaller companion suggested that he wasn't relying on his partner's 'fighting skill' to fend off any unwanted guests. This told Henry all too well that there was bound to be a sniper in the area somewhere, and whilst scanning the blackened rooftops, surely enough there stood a gunman, or 'gun-woman' to be more precise.

The sniper was a female Templar, but more formally dressed than her two associates. Around her arm was a band bearing the intrepid symbol of the Templar Order. She must have been a member of a more 'elite' blighter task force, probably forced to provide gun support for the two novice guards beneath her.

Even though she was a higher ranking official, she seemed somewhat nervous, and with good reason. Every time she came to the edge of the roof, the muscular brute below would shoot her an evil glance. Once he did she clutched her gun tightly, a worried expression etching its way onto her face. If the guard did have any plans for her, that rifle would be the thin woman's only line of protection against that brute of a man.

After seeing no imminent danger from another few rounds of the rooftop, she sheathed her gun, continuing on with just her eyes, completely unaware of 'The Ghost' that lurked in the shadows. Henry ducked behind the balcony railing, he adjusted the straps on his gauntlet, checking that his hidden blade was functional whilst he engaged it, adjusted the retort and once satisfied, sheathed it again. He checked the supplies on his belt, 3 darts and a few smoke bombs. A second load of bullets for his pistol, and of course his prised Kukri, a long sliver sword etched with gold.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went over the plan once more in his mind, pulled his cowl from around his neck and over his head. Henry moved from underneath the railing up onto the post, looking from underneath his hood, he found a thick steel cable hanging from the bell tower to the edge of the cathedral balcony. He steadied himself and walked across stealthily, almost gliding. Henry made the last jump onto the Cathedral's roof and mounted the railing. Now he was positioned perfectly above the two guards, only hidden from the sniper's view by the statues that decorated the rooves.

Henry had a choice, assassinate the two guards at the door and risk being compromised by the sniper, or kill her. Henry didn't want to kill the sniper, although she sided with the Templars, maybe a near death experience would be enough for her to see the light. It was hard enough for him to let his blade be responsible for the death of many men, but to let it be forever stained with the blood of a woman? His conscience always found it hard to heal.

But his conscience would have to heal faster, as the sniper herd his landing, and was coming to investigate.

"Who's there?" she sounded young, maybe 18, her whole life ahead of her. Henry began to panic, he couldn't do it, he wouldn't. He heard her begin to approach, she had drawn her gun and was looking down the sights. Her voice was trembling, "I'm...I'm w-wwarning you!" Ss-hhow yourselfff..!" she was scared. Her words broke off at the point, stabbing at Henry's heart. But then he had an epiphany. Maybe he could scare her.

With every footstep, her fear became more apparent. Still looking down the barrel of the long gun, Henry could hear her finger loosely jingling on the trigger, her trembling hand making the whole weapon quake. Henry thought about what he could do, she just needed to be…closer. Her pulse was rapid and she drew closer with every breath. Henry was waiting,

' _C'mon'_ he thought.

 _Just a little closer…_

She was within reaching distance now, but one more step would do it. Henry heard the heel of her boot crunch on the shale roof once more and then, he put his idea into action. From where she was standing, all the sniper could see was the statue to which Henry was leaning his back on. In hopes that she would get scared, in one quick movement Henry stuck out the wrist that held his gauntlet, (his left) and engaged his hidden blade, the sound of the metal popping out ringing in his ears. The girl gave a small scream and dropped the rifle, falling to the floor. Henry disengaged his blade and lowered his hand, slumped against the wall of the statue and breathing heavily. _Show time._

He rose from behind his hiding place to finish what he had started. Henry began walking towards the girl, who backed herself up until she hit the side of another statue. When he stopped he loomed over her cowering body, every ounce of his beating heart present in his ears. Trying desperately to ignore it, he once again engaged his blade, and watched as tears began pouring down her cheeks as she quietly sobbed. _"Please, please…have mercy."_ Henry felt so sorry for her, all he wanted to do right now more than anything in the world, was to hug her, to comfort her and wipe away her tears. But he could not, so he continued. Henry raised his arm above his head, the girl began crying louder now.

Henry took a deep breath, _I'm sorry_

With one swift blow he landed the dagger, the girl still wailing from horror, until she realised… he hadn't killed her.

With one tear-stained eye, she followed the length of his arm and gauntlet to where he had landed his dagger, just but a few centimetres above her head, embedded in the cement back of the Cathedral's roof. A warm and teary sigh of relief came spluttering out of her throat, in between the sudden gasps for air and mercy. She looked at what part of Henry's face was visible from under his cowl. He had managed to scare her, now it was time for her to…

"Leave" he said.

She looked at him confused, still terrified, but confused.

"Leave" Henry said once again, "Leave, go, say nothing and do not return."

The girl felt pathetic at his feet, but graciously said thankyou before skidding down the slanted roof and away into the night. Henry took a deep breath, now all he had to do was try and get his blade out of the wall.

After using two feet, Henry managed to dislodge his blade from the statue and sheathed it again. He was prepping his gear for the two guards when he heard the scream of a woman, a young woman. The young assassin ran to the top of the balcony to find his next targets were gone. Internally cursing, and worried for the life of his hostage, he fled to the other side of the rooftop, scanning the dark streets for any sign of the 'punisher' and his assailant. Suddenly, the backs of the two guards emerged from the darkness to underneath the light a nearby street lamp.

'They appeared to be _Crouching?_ ' Henry observed and once the two moved further, realised they were _dragging_ something. And surely enough, as they stepped into the light, (their backs to Henry) they lugged a shadowy figure into the light with them. Upon closer inspection, it was the young sniper, kicking and screaming as she was dragged across the cold cobbles, only given shelter by the seemingly warm light of the street lamp.

Both guards pulled her over to the base of the lamp, the smaller guard pulled rope from a nearby crate and tied the young girl's hands to the street post. The larger guard stepped back into the light, now wearing a set of brass knuckledusters.

 _Oh, No…_

 _Please no…_

The Punisher donned a sickening smile, before he spoke to her. "Now, now Miss Jaya, it seems here like we have a little bit of a situation, don't we?"

"That's Commander Kipling to you." The girl looked down at her black boots, marked with the Templar symbol, which she began rubbing into the ground, a disgusted look on her face. "I am your supervising officer, and I demand you unhand me…" The guard pulled his hands apart and revealed his weapons, making the girl nervous. "…at once…"

"Such a sweet girl." He said, grabbing her chin forcefully. "Wouldn't want any _harm_ to come to ya." He flashed his knuckledusters in the dim light. "Please, no" she said quietly."

"It's ok, nothing has to happen, just tell us why you abandoned your post, who saved you and where he is now."

"I won't tell you anything." She scampered, trying to free herself.

The guard punched her clean across the face, his weapon leaving her with a swelling cheek and a bloody nose. The girl screamed in pain as she began to cry.

"Now, Like I said, you're going to pay for your acts, one way…" he stopped, glanced down at the chest of her shirt and ripped it open revealing a thin white blouse, feasting his eyes on all her concealed woman-hood as she lay bound, helpless. "…Or, another." He teased with a wicked smile.

"Get off me! Stay away from me!" the girl screamed avoiding his calloused fingers, hoping for a saviour, so where was he?

The brute placed a bloody hand on her dimpled chin, then began stroking her cheek lightly with the knuckledusters.

"Wott'a pretty face." He said, still stroking her cheek. "Wouldn't want anyfink to 'appen to it now, would we?" Gripping her chin, he began pressing the spiked knuckledusters into her cheek, harder and harder until he drew blood. Once he pulled away, her tears had turned crimson, mixing with the blood that dripped from her nostrils and oozed from the left side of her face.

The punisher lent down on his haunches once more. He grabbed a soiled handkerchief from the pocket of his red britches and mopped away the blood. "Aw, I'm sorry poppet, I don't wanna urt ya. Honestly I don't. So I'm gonna ask ya one more time. Where's our assassin friend?" He lent into the girl's face, she looked as though she was about to kiss his shredded lips.

He foolishly mistook this and moved closer before she coughed up a large ward of mucus she had been gathering in her mouth, and spat a mix of tinted greens and yellows right into his eye. " _I'll never tell you._ "

He stumbled, taken aback by the miscreant's efforts, so he pulled a large fistful of red hair from her tiny head. He punched her once more before looking to his associate, "Fetch the oil, and a match."

The teenager panicked, screaming and trying to free herself from her bindings. Henry watched as the small, string-beam of a guard nodded to the large thug and disappeared behind a pile of wooden crates. When he returned into vision, he was carrying a small red jerry-can. Henry could hear a thick liquid sloshing around in the container as he walked, a devilish look in his eye.

The larger guard turned and took the can from his associate, exchanging with him a dry chuckle, before turning to the young girl, slowly swinging the bottle in front of her. Her eyes alight with worry. Henry froze in place, he had to do something, but he couldn't expose his cover on what could be the biggest Templar heist yet, could he?

The muscular guard set the bottle of oil down and snapped his fingers at his assailant, who fetched him a piece of dirty cloth that was protruding from his coat pocket. The larger man then proceeded in his evil doings and tied the cloth firmly around the girl's mouth, despite the disgusting state of the presumably once white material, it made a fitting gag.

Henry's thoughts became a haze as the consequences of each outcome whizzed around in his mind, stabbing at his brain like darts tipped in silver. The whizzing became surreal as the large guard popped the top off of the red bottle and began splashing oil over the fatigued body before him, tiny little droplets gathered on her collar as tears beaded in her eyes. The girl tried to close her mouth underneath the gag to stop any of the toxic liquid coming through, but her mouth became drenched in oil as did the rest of her body. Both guards stood back and watched the squirming body. They were both standing around the edges of the circle of light that the street light provided, facing Henry's direction and backs to the darkness.

 _Mistake_ …

The smaller guard pulled a small red box from his coat and handed it to the larger guard, who then struck a match. The girl panicked as the golden tinge of the flame reflected in her brown eyes. Again and again she tried to free herself from her bindings, thrashing about but to no avail. Once more Henry tried to make up his mind as to whether he free the young girl or risk losing what could be one of the Brotherhood's strongest Templar leads.

Luckily, that would be a decision he wouldn't have to make.

The guard laughed wickedly as he held the match close, just about to throw it onto the horrified girl, when all of a sudden, it blew out. Startled, his laughter ceased as he looked to his comrade who had already raised a finger to check for any wind at all, but not even a light breezed trudged through the muddy streets on such a still night.

Henry realised this as well, and before he or either of the guards could piece together what had happened, two gloved hands appeared from the midst of the night, covering the largest guard's mouth and restraining his arms.

Henry's ears perked as he tried to accommodate the sudden advance. Just as quickly as they had appeared, the hands vanished, dragging the guard back into the night with them, only then did Henry hear a loud scream. As soon as his cockney shout pierced the stillness of the night, the guard's body was thrust back into the light, landing at the feet of his accomplice. A large, clean cut travelled across his throat.

 _He was dead._

Before the second guard could raise his fists in defence the same black gloves appeared again. This time Henry noticed that one donned an assassin's gauntlet and the other was wielding a kukri, much like his own.

The gloves lunged towards the man and the hand holding the sword started slashing at him in all different directions, before finally lodging firmly in his stomach and pulling him towards the other hand which engaged the gauntlet's hidden blade and stabbed him clean through the throat. Even though so far away, Henry could make out the triangular tip of the silver blade as it poked through the back of the man's neck. It then retracted, letting him slip off the kukri and onto the bloodstained cobbles beneath him.

The two guards lay next to each other at the feet of the young girl who was still trying to process being doused in petrol let alone the hands that belonged to her unknown saviour.

When the hands emerged from the darkness once more, arms followed, then a torso and a body. Henry now saw a figure in a long black coat the bore the Creed's symbol, and a cowl pulled over the heroine's face. The womanly figure stepped into the light and towards the girl who was at first, scared of the shady figure, but soon realised that she was friendly once she began soothing the girl.

"It's alright. _I'm a friend_."

Although she spoke quietly, Henry could make out the voice, it was very formal but thick with a British accent, and somehow, very familiar. The woman took the gag from the girl's mouth and tossed it to the bodies with disgust, it became stained as it lay in a pool of their blood. Once her mouth was free, the girl began taking huge gasp of air as colour began returning to her bloodied face.

"Thank you, thank you so much." She breathed she looked around in a dazed confusion, then back to the woman who began untying her hands.

"Where is your friend?" she asked in a slur.

The woman stopped momentarily, head tilted to one side at the young girl's question.

"Friend?"

Henry decided to investigate, and made his way down from the roof onto the cobbles below, landing with a thud. The woman helped the young teenager stand, who noticed Henry as he stepped into the light to… well he hadn't thought that far ahead, very unusual for him.

The girl squinted and then smiled when she saw Henry step into the light. "There he is." The Indian assassin was surprised when the girl who he had ' _threatened'_ ran to him and hugged his torso. Not knowing what to do, he cradled her head and tried to comfort her a little after all she had been through. When she finally let go, she realised that she had acted without thinking, and a little embarrassed, took a few steps back from where the desolate figure of Henry Green that stood underneath the street lamp.

"Thank you both, I shall hope to be joining you soon." The young girl said to them before she looked down at her arm, ripped off her Templar band and threw it to the ground so that it now laid in the large puddle of blood that slowly creeped from the dead guards, down the cobles and towards the drains. The young girl gave the hooded pair a bloodied smile before running off into the night. Once the girl was gone, Henry moved his vision to the hooded woman standing opposite him, who had now dropped the girl's discarded bindings.

"Mr. Green," She greeted him, lifting her hood back to reveal to Henry the dazzling face of Evie Frye. "I thought you said that you preferred books to fieldwork." Her smile widened as she saw Henry's face once he lifted back his hood.

"I do, I was just following up on a lead that Jacob had presented me with, thought I'd try my hand at a simple heist." Henry gestured to the two dead bodies and the spatters of crimson from where the girl had been seated.

"Obviously my place is back on the train. I am not sure of what would've happened if you had not of been here. Thank you Miss Frye."

Evie Frye and her brother Jacob had been in London for a few months, and had liberated the city, had successfully located the Shroud of Eden and of course, their most notable triumph had been killing Crawford Starrick, the Templar Grandmaster of London. Now, Jacob and Evie had talked Henry into joining a nightly patrol that they each conducted, eradicating any remaining Templar-Blighter forces and claiming resisting boroughs.

"Don't be daft Henry." Evie laughed walking over to him and placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. "You are just as much a skilled assassin as Jacob or I. You just need to put your skills into practice on your next patrol." Evie reassured him as she pulled a white handkerchief from her coat and wiped it across the throats of her kills. Usually Evie and her brother only performed that sacred tradition once they had killed one of Starrick's Henchmen. Seeing as that was no longer necessary, Jacob and herself had decided it would be a good idea to mark their hankies with the blood of everyone they killed, then they could take the cloth back to the train and record their kills, in an attempt to try and figure out how many Templars were left, still secretly worshipping the way of the dead Templar Grandmaster.

A good way to also mark out how many had fallen at the blood-stained tip of each twin's blade, not that Jacob was counting.

Evie tucked the hankie back into its pocket and look to Henry. "Well, it was good to see you with your head out of the books. Now if you will excuse me, I'm off to record these assassinations, and to rub it in Jacob's face that I killed 7 Templars." That earned a light chuckle from Henry, who was sad to have no kills to his name that night, but nevertheless happy for Evie.

"Goodnight Mr. Green. I shall see you back at the train." Evie smiled and then walked off into the night.

Henry Soon followed, but took a longer route back to their train hideout, if not to just enjoy the starry night and the constellations that poured out into the open sky above him. He finally made his way back to the train at sometime late in the night.

As he walked through the main cabin, he looked up at what Jacob had named 'The Tally Board' a chalkboard on which the twins kept track of their nightly kills or 'scores'. As he looked up at the board, he saw both of the twin's names in Jacob's handwriting, but upon closer inspection, he noticed his name written in cursive script that he recognised to be Evie's hand. He smiled, but became confused as he noticed that his name had two tallies beside it.

Henry walked over to the rack of hooks on which everyone placed their hankies, and noticed a white hankie dabbed with two red dots sitting on the hook that was reserved for him. Still trying to work out what had happened, Henry walled over to the hankie and felt it questioningly. He then had an idea, and low and behold, when he checked the bottom right hand corner of the hankie he found Evie Frye's initials.

Henry smiled to himself at her generosity, even though it didn't really matter, it was very kind of Evie 'donate' her two kills from earlier that night to him. Henry lifted the hankie and was about to return it to Evie's hook when a note slipped out from underneath the cloth. He bent down to pick it up, then realised it was from Evie.

 _Dear Henry._

 _Put_ _your_ _hankie back on_ _your_ _hook._

 _They were your kills, and besides, it's a gift._

 _But now you owe my one._

 _Sincerely,_

 _~ Evie Frye ~_

Henry gave a light hearted chuckle and did as he was told. He continued to his car, writing a quick report to himself on a piece of torn parchment, before hunkering down for the night.

* * *

The Next morning, Henry woke to the sound of Jacob ranting at Evie, saying that she must have cheated to have had so many kills from the previous night's patrol. Shortly afterwards, Henry joined the twins for breakfast, surprisingly, to have Jacob congratulate him.

"Well, well, well," Jacob said gazing at the old chalkboard.

"Henry got two kills last night, huh. Congrates Greenie." Jacob chuckled as he patted him on the shoulder. Henry raised his head from his oatmeal and exchanged a smile with Evie who was sitting opposite him in the booth.

She was eating toast with cold tea, Jacob had made it for her.

Henry couldn't help but laugh to himself at her brother's feeble attempt at breakfast for his loving sister. After spending so much time with Evie when searching for the piece of Eden, they had often engaged in small, casual conversations, and Henry now knew exactly what Evie liked. For her first meal, Evie fancied fresh bread, lightly toasted accompanied by a steaming cup of English tea, two sugars. Despite it being the complete opposite of how she desired it, that morning's breakfast had been a gift from Jacob on account of his sister winning the most tallies, so she graciously accepted and quietly nibbled on her burnt toast, sipping her cold tea.

It wasn't long before two of the Rooks that Henry was yet to memorize the names of, approached the three assassins in the breakfast cart.

"Sirs" the first one said glancing at Henry and Jacob, then noticed Evie, "… and _Ma'am_."

"What is it?" Jacob coughed from behind a cup of his famous cold tea.

"We have a new member, a retired Templar here to join our gang."

Jacob almost choked on his tea, but after clearing his throat, began addressing the rooks again. "Hmm… _ahem,_ interesting. Well then, send em' in." As soon as Jacob had uttered the command, the rooks parted and sent in a young woman.

She had slick red hair tied back into a neat ponytail, a black eye, a puffy cheek, lots of bruises and she reeked of oil. Henry and Evie glanced at one another in a happy

disbelief.

"Hmm, so you wish to join the Rooks?" Jacob scoffed as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "What made you change sides?"

The girl straightened, "Let's just say that I have, _seen the light._ I had a dangerous encounter and realised I was fighting for the wrong team, so I am here to mend my ways."

Jacob circled the young woman, who Henry and Evie had instantly recognised as the girl from last night. After asking about her combat and sniping skills, Jacob scratched his chin and after a long silence, spoke again.

"…What's your name?" he asked briskly. The girl swallowed and played with the bottom of her new 'Rook outfit.'

"Jaya sir, Jaya Kipling."

Jacob called for one of the other Rooks who handed him something. "Well Jaya," he said.

"Welcome to the Rooks." He called as he tossed the young maiden a yellow sash. A large grin spread across her blackened cheeks.

"Thank you sir." She turned to Evie and Henry who were smiling to.

"Where do I start?"


	2. A Breath on Frosted Glass

An Assassin's Virtue

By Midnight's Assassin

I do not own any of the original characters from this story, those of which belong to Ubisoft and the Assassin's Creed franchise. This is simply a fan fiction dedicated to such. Enjoy : )

Chapter 2:

A Breath on Frosted Glass

Evie and Jacob Launched up and over the old church building, before grappling to a nearby Tea House and taking refuge behind the large 'ABBOT'S TEA' sign.

"Evie, what did Greenie drag us out here for?" Jacob "whispered" as he scratched the cut in his stubble. That was the last time he was going to let Jaya shave his chin.

"Were you not paying attention?" Evie fluttered her eye lashes sarcastically.

"No, of course I was! I just…"

"Wasn't listening?"

"Precisely!" Jacob squealed waving his hands in a gesture of triumph.

 _Don't know why…_

"How typical. Leave it to you to arrive at a mission you know nothing about." Evie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Oh woe is me!" Jacob sarcastically grabbed his top hat from his head, held it in his hands and continued in a high pitched voice, presumably impersonating his sister. "Woe is my lowley life as I cannot, will not ever be able to look at Henry with the love struck eyes of my air-headed sister!"

"Jacob…" Evie quietly ushered to him, but her brother wasn't listening and continued with his hurtful ranting.

"Oh Mr. Green! Won't you analyse this book with me Mr. Green! Share my kills with me Mr. Green! Come and stand-oh-so-close-to me Mr. Green!" His voice grew deep and intimidating at the last few words.

"Jacob!"

Evie's sniffily voice finally interrupted his wicked teasing and left him in shock. Jacob looked angrily to his sister, but his expression softened when he saw her ocean eyes begin to swell with fluids, tears catching on her eyelashes like rain beading on a single stem of delicate grass. And knowing his sister, there would soon be a storm to follow.

"Evie I…"

"Save it." Evie cut him off, her voice still shaky.

"Go back to the train. You obviously don't won't to be here, so I won't force you to be."

"Look I'm sorry, please, just don't do this, I…" Jacob tried to embrace her, only to be pushed away.

"Evie,"

"Just go!" Evie's whimpering voice rang in his ears.

Jacob did as he was told. He paced over to the edge of the building before glancing back to his sister, her scornful gaze haunting him as she looked away, a long clear stream decorating her freckled cheek.

Feeling very guilty, Jacob launched a strong grapple line, the sharp hook seemed to be aiding his sister's wish as it dug into the cement corner of house a few buildings away. Whilst zip lining, he once again peeked over his shoulder to see his sister with her hood on, face and body concealed by her garbs and her gaze at her feet, Kukri firmly gripped in one hand.

 _I'm sorry._

* * *

Pushing her feelings aside, Evie found the target building and began to press onwards, but try as she might, her previous engagements erupted back into her frame of mind.

Shaking all thoughts of her brother, Evie remembered the mission Henry had given her.

' _You are to intercept Breechwald Manor._

 _My spies tell me that within the manors' studies are Templar letters, containing important information about plans for the remaining gangs.' Henry had instructed._

' _Jacob, Evie has asked if you would accompany her on this mission. She believes it would be a great way for the two of you to catch up on some quality time, seeing that the two of you rarely get a chance to do so now._

 _Good luck to you both.'_

"I thought wrong." She muttered to herself as she sucked the last of her snot back up the cavities of her nose.

Evie made her way up the side of a statue beside the Manor, and sat perched atop the decorative hat of the landmark's tributer. Calling on her training, Evie engaged what her father had donned 'eagle vision' and watched in a hungry anticipation as the world around her faded to a subtle grey. Using her incredible eyesight, the female assassin scanned the courtyards below, and surely found five Blighters, each one a pulsating red glow in her adapted vision. Before making her move, Evie assessed each and every one of them, gaining knowledge on their weapon status and combat skills.

She waited on top of the monument a moment longer, watching where the guards stood and taking note of their patterns as they patrolled the area.

Two of them stood completely still outside the only entrance, their backs to the wall and facing the road, watching for any civilian who might 'stumble a little too far from his planned path'. The third guard walked up and down the middle stretch of cobbles, and met at the end with the last two guards who strolled the length of the square courtyard.

With that noted, Evie prepared for her decent. Leaping forward, she tucked her legs together and thrusted her arms outwards. At first she flew straight, but soon nosedived as she plummeted head first, she angled her body forward as her legs over took her head to give her a completely horizontal form. Evie landed with a soft thud accompanied by the rustle of leaves as she sunk down into the cart of leaf litter and hay. Her landing was, aside from the multiple leaves that she spat from her mouth, perfect.

Letting out a sharp whistle, she attracted the attention of one of the guards walking the length of the court. When he went to investigate, Evie jumped out of her hiding place, shoving her hidden blade clean through the man's throat before throwing him over the edge and into the hay bale, retracting her blade and sheathing it again.

Leaving the safety of the cart, Evie ghosted her way to the tall hedge that stretched the length of the cobblestone path up the middle of the court, before stopping at the last quarter from the wall to allow another path that connected with the other, forming a 'T-shape'. Peeking from behind the hedge, Evie saw the guard walking up the middle path approach, and thought this to be a unique kill opportunity. When he was all but a few meters from her, she ejected her grapple, the sharp hook went straight through his chest. The assassin retracted it, and the line sped back towards her, delivering the man straight onto Evie's kukri. A gruesome death indeed, but she suspected he was dead upon impact of the grapple.

Evie made short work of the three remaining guards, killing the two by the entrance with a double assassination, and the last suffered her grapple. She had come to be quite fond of that new trick. After disposing of the bodies in the hay cart, Evie scaled the side of the Manor and took out the sniper on the roof, she breathed a sigh of relief that she would not have a repeat of the events that took place a few nights ago, learning that he was a leathery old man who smelt of cigars and alcohol.

Now on the roof, Evie once again engaged her miracle vision and targeted an approximate of fifteen Blighters taking up residence in the Manor. After tagging as many of the scum as she could see, Evie did a belt check, making sure she had plenty of ammunition, throwing knifes, smoke bombs and now voltaic bombs thanks to Aleck, and dropped from the roof to an open window on the second floor. Peering in through the white window's archway, Evie, seeing no imminent threat coming down the hallway, hastily jumped through and ran to take shelter in an open doorway.

Inside the room was an old woman dressed in a black jacket fast asleep at a desk, a quill in hand and a spilt inkpot, she must've fallen under the sandman's spell whilst writing a letter late in the night. Placing a gloved hand on the framework to silence the squeaky hinges, Evie quietly closed the door. Her muffled footsteps echoing only in her mind, Evie approached the sleeping Hag, her grey hair had been quickly tied up into a messy bun, locks that she had missed draped around her wrinkly cheeks, framing her round face. Quietly engaging her blade, Evie kept the long, slender piece of metal close to the woman's neck, the only reason she was not yet dead was that her 'captor' saw no indication of her being a Templar agent. The blade still inches from the sleeping woman, Evie used her free hand to search the letter that lie guarded by the body's sleeping position. The handwriting was messy, very quickly written most likely. From what she could make out, Evie decided that the note read:

 _'Dearest Love,_

 _I haven't much time, they've found a way into the Manor. Lady Elloway is dead, and I believe they've killed the Master._

 _The police refuse to investigate, they almost seem anxious. Gossip from around the Manor suggest that the other maids seem to think the authorities refuse to get their hands dirty, but I think otherwise. I believe that they are being black mailed by the Templar forces! The rest of the staff think I've gone mad, say I've a few screws loose, but I know that there is something else going on. Pray tell that I overheard a conversation in the Master's study a few weeks ago. He was talking to a man with a deep voice, said he was 'a messenger for the new corporation leader'. Once he emerged, I saw he was a man dressed in black, the Templar symbol draped around his arm. He was then escorted by two men dressed in red jackets out to a carriage. Later that night, Master went out, and he hasn't been seen since! I knew I should've looked into it. For the sake of the Elloway family name, I wrote a letter to Henry, but I didn't want him to know it was from me, he would've worried for my life, lord only knows how much that boy has to deal with now and my safety does not need worry him as well, so I marked it with the Elloway family crest._

 _Since the Master's disappearance, the man he spoke to has come to run the household, 'look after everything' until the Master returns. Ever since that man returned, more and more men and women dressed in red have taken up residence in the Manor, and more and more of the staff have disappeared, says they've 'retired'. Last night the Mistress did not come for supper, so I went in search of her. I found her body in the study, located in the west wing of the basement. Clutched in her hands were letters, after reading them I discovered they were Templar plans, many of them blueprints for heists, robberies and murders, but one was addressed to 'that man', it was from the supposed 'New Templar Leader.'_

 _A new leader? I thought Crawford Starrick was dead. I have yet to decipher what this means, but fear I may not be able to, last night I was almost discovered when two guards heard me rummaging around. Luckily, I escaped back to my quarters with the letters before they could find me, but now I fear for my life. I know too much, now I am certain they will kill me._

 _If that is the case, whomever this reaches, please deliver this letter to a Mr. Henry Green, Owner of The Curios Shop in London town. Henry if this ever does reach you, know that you have given many of your years in London to care for me when we lived in the tunnels, and I am very grateful to have had the pleasure of knowing you._

 _Yours Truly_

 _Maggie Reith,_

 _Maid at the Breechwald Manor_.'

Astonished and frankly, lost for words, Evie thought that this woman deserved shelter for being so brave, she could stay with them at the train, and be reunited with Henry once again, however she knew him.

"Maggie." Evie whispered prepared to calm a jittery awakening.

But the old woman didn't answer. She must've been half deaf at her age. Before she could try again, Evie noticed the woman's breathing, or more frank, the lack there of. She expected to be gazing upon the steady rise and fall of the lady's chest, back and shoulders, but all was still. Was she even breathing? Startled, Evie tried again.

"Maggie?" she said louder this time. Evie placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, but she was cold. Even through her glove, she could feel the icy chill of the woman's pale skin shivering up her own. Evie Began to panic, and taking the woman in both arms, moved her head up from the desk.

"Maggie? Maggie?" Evie began shaking the maid's seemingly lifeless body.

"Maggie?!" Finally, with one last shake, the woman's head flopped upwards, stunned at what it showed, Evie lay a hand over her mouth. When Maggie's head moved to the side, it revealed a large bullet wound right through the middle of her neck.

' _Oh Maggie,'_ Evie quietly whispered,

' _I'm so sorry.'_

Gently placing the woman down back down on the desk, Evie retrieved the letter and went to exit the room. Now driven even more by the maid's determination, she glanced down the hallway and noticed a woman in red coming to investigate the commotion. Ducking back behind the door, Evie readied a knife, aimed for the woman and threw.

The Blighter caught sight of her just as the silver knife went speeding through the air.

"Oi! There's an intrud-" She fell to the floor, the long slender knife, large and obvious as it protruded from her cranium, caked in blood.

After hiding the body, by throwing it out of the nearest window, Evie proceeded down to the next floor, killing many a Templar along the way. She came to a long hallway, paintings of posh people decorated the walls. The largest being the portrait of a man in a black suit. He had white hair combed back and a large handle bar moustache. The painting's plaque bore the name; Winston Elloway. Evie smiled at the funny looking man, until she look closer at the military badges decorating his suit pocket. The longer she looked, the more obvious it became, as there, amongst meddles like the Victoria Cross and the Memorial award, sat a badge bearing the Templar symbol, as red as blood and as plain as day. Disgusted, Evie's smile faded at the one painting baring the intrepid mark of a corrupt society.

 _Come to think of it…_

Evie backtracked to another painting she had already passed, this time a woman. A mean look on her face and a large mole decorated her chin. 'Margret Elloway' it said on the plaque, and as she had thought, on the collar of the woman's shirt was the same badge.

To double check her theory Evie continued on, checking every portrait she could see. 'Lisa Elloway, Jackson Elloway, Theodore, Albert, Nora. All Elloways', all wearing the Templar symbol.

So it was as Evie had thought. The Elloway Family of Breechwald Manor had always been involved with the Templars, and now they were using the Manor as a safe house to harbor important information about the remaining boroughs.

 _Clever. Very clever.  
_

She had to make her way to the Maggie's quarters to find the letters. Thinking that the room she'd found the maid's body in was indeed her living quarters, Evie searched the room, but to no avail as she soon realised Maggie had retreated to one of the Manor's many studies to write her final thoughts on paper, before meeting her grisly end. Checking every corridor, every bedroom, every study, Evie didn't stumble across the staff's living spaces until she reach the basement level.

 _How typical of a rich family to put the help on the bottom level._

Where had all the Templar's gone? This was a question that plagued Evie's mind as she proceeded checking every bedroom. T'was a good question indeed, but her mind instantly forgot it all as she came to the last bedroom. There was a sign on the door, it read; Miss Reith's quarters. Why it would be labelled? She had no clue, although Maggie did seem to have been with the family for a long time. Racing into the room, Evie totally destroyed any privacy the corpse of Maggie Reith had left, and as terrible as she felt about doing so, she needed to find the letters both Henry and Maggie had spoken of. Evie checked each draw, each nook and cranny, but didn't seem to find anything. One last look under the bed, and once that came back with nothing, Evie was almost out of ideas.

 _Almost!_

Not only did her enhanced vision tag enemies, but it also highlighted chests and mysterious objects in a silver lining. Standing by the doorway, Evie once again engaged her vision as the world around her faded to a dull grey. Scanning the ground, Evie's vision picked up something interesting as a single floor board became highlighted in a white tinge. She immediately deactivated her vision and went to investigate. Upon closer inspection, Evie noticed that one of the floorboards had no nails in it. She knocked a gloved fist along its length and the sound rung out along the room.

 _Hollow_

Exited, Evie grabbed her kukri and lodged the tip of the long blade between the single plank and the neighbouring one. Of course, leave it to Evie Frye to have a sophisticated, thousand year old weapon, and find another use for it. Well, that's what Jacob would've said anyway. With one backwards movement, the plank popped open, and once removed, revealed to Evie a large whole in the ground, a small wooden chest was hidden inside.

Not only was Maggie Reith a great detective, she was also intelligent, brave, secretive and very cunning. No wonder she was friends with Henry.

Evie carefully lifted out the chest, blowing dusts from the etching before she opened it. Inside the chest was a small leather bound book, whilst scanning the first few pages, she discovered it was Maggie's journal. She would keep that and give it to Henry, surely he would wish to read the thoughts of his late friend. Setting the journal down, Evie continued to look through the chest, pulling out lovely trinkets like a snow globe from Moscow, a large spiralling sea shell, and a pump perfume bottle. Ribbon was wrapped around the neck of the vile, and a tag was attached.

 _Happy birthday Maggie, Love Jayadeep._

Evie smiled and pumped the little bag, as the bottle expelled a mist. She inhaled expecting to smell a sweet, enchanting aroma. She was sorely mistaken. It smelt of dust and mould. This time she tried again, but shook the vile first, and the scent of jasmine and lavender mixed with wildflowers and tea rained down upon her and gently dabbed her skin. Now she could kill people and smell great.

Evie moved the perfume aside, and surely enough, there were the letters that Maggie had written about. She picked them up and shuffled through the small pile. Each of the wax seals had peen popped, well, Maggie did say she had read them. Evie thought she couldn't be any happier, but everything else failed in comparison as she reached for the last thing in the box. There in Evie's hands was a photograph of a younger Maggie Reith, sitting with a young Indian boy in the park. Both of them looked so happy. She flipped the photo over, on the back was Maggie's hand writing.

 _Myself and young Jayadeep on his 16_ _th_ _birthday. A.K.A, Henry Green._

Tears welled in Evie's eyes as she trace their smiles with a gentle finger. " _Oh, Henry."_

Henry seemed to be all Maggie had in her old age, and news of her death would destroy him.

Evie wiped her eyes and gently packed everything, excluding the photograph back into the chest, and tucked it into a large compartment in her jacket. Henry would surely treasure it.

Evie's question of the Templar's disappearances soon came hurtling back into her mind when she heard an alarm bell sounding from the vicinity outside.

"They must've found the body."

Her eagle vision told her that Templar carriages had arrived, and now reinforcements were pouring into the building, to many to fight on her own. She had to find an escape route, but there were no windows in the basement level. So running down the long corridors and up flights of stairs with the chest, Evie found an open window in the kitchen. She flung both legs over the windowsill and fired her grapple gun to the farthest building it could reach. Just as she the hook anchored into the cement roof, a Templar came running around the corner and into the kitchen, spotting her in the window and fired his revolver. A thick silver bullet tore through her pant leg and lodged into the skin of her calf. She cried out as she went hurtling forward, putting a hand to her wound as Evie flew out of the window and into the open air.

She. Was. Safe.

But halfway across, the photo of Henry and Maggie went flying out of Evie's pocket.

"No!" she cried as she let go of the steel cable and began plummeting.

Evie leaned forward and grabbed the photo just she fired another cable that sent her speeding back onto the roof of another building.

"Where is she?"

"FIND HER!"

Voices shouted behind her as Evie kept running, the stinging sensation in her leg made it hard to breathe, but wheezing and panting, she made it far enough from the Manor until the voices where but a faint echo.

* * *

Slowly, but surely, Evie limped her way back to the train that had pulled into a station in Westminster. Her vision was blurry, and she left a trail of blood as she continued running, and she hadn't stopped. Her farther had trained her to be a master assassin, and assassins didn't feel pain, but it was it was hard to ignore a bullet-embedded-in-her-leg! Every step saw what felt like a million knife being stabbed at every inch of her skin shoot up through the left side of her body.

And putting up as good a fight as she had was very, very tiring, so it was understandable when she collapsed in the first carriage of the train.

Two Rooks sitting in a booth saw her and helped her two her quarters. There they set her down on her bed and panicked, seeing as Henry, who had taken up role of 'gang doctor', wasn't on the train.

"I'll go get Mister Jacob!" one of them squawked, thinking it was a brilliant idea, but it only made Evie cringe at the thought of what her brother would say.

Soon enough, Jacob came bounding through the door.

"Evie, are you alright!"

"Go on, laugh." Was her reply, thinking that he was being sarcastic, but when she turned to look at him, a look of serious concern was etched onto his face.

"Why would I laugh? You've been shot!"

"Hmm… suppose I have, haven't I?"

Without any hesitation, Jacob lunged at his sister and took her in his arms before she had a chance to object, and to his surprise, she hugged him back.

"Evie, I'm so sorry. I've being such -"

"A jerk? An idiot? An arsehole of a brother? Evie chimed in.

"Well, I was going to say _meanie_ but sure, I guess that sums it up to."

Both twins laughed and kept each other in a warm embrace until Jacob gave her an affectionate slap of the leg.

"Ow!" Evie breathed as she finally broke her brother off of her.

"What?" Jacob questioned her sudden pain, as if he had only just joined the conversation.

Evie gave him a dead expression. "I don't know if you recall, but I've been shot in the leg."

Her brother glanced down at where his hand rested on her knee. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I forgot! Ugh I'm such an idiot!"

"Yes you are." Evie smiled at him as she hugged him one more time.

Night fell, and Henry still had not returned to the train. Evie was falling in and out of consciousness and every time she did so, it convinced Jacob she was dead until the next time she woke up.

"Why isn't Henry back yet?" he asked bitterly, gazing out the pane windows from behind the red curtains.

"No clue…ugh…" Evie's moans and sudden motion sickness put Jacob's patience to the test, a test he failed when he decided to operate on his sister himself.

"UGH! NO!" Evie suddenly sprang to life at the idea, "Why can't you just take me to the hospital?"

"I told you Miss Nightingale's asylum is the only hospital around and it's full!" Jacob squeaked back as he chased her around with a scalpel.

"Well why don't you just ask Miss Nightingale to make a house call?"

Jacob waved his finger in the air "Because I…didn't think of that…" his deflated finger fell back to his side, as did his ego.

Soon enough though, Jaya and a few other Rooks had fetched Miss Nightingale in a carriage and had brought her to the station.

"Mr. Frye! PUT-THAT-DOWN!" she yelled as she saw Evie fending off Jacob who was still holding the scalpel.

"Thank heavens you're here Florence." Evie breathed from underneath the duvet.

"Of course Miss Frye, I came- ugh- as soon-as I could." She said as she wrestled the scalpel from Jacob.

* * *

Florence set up a table and laid out all of her equipment, before ushering Jacob out of the carriage and locked the Florence coated Evie's leg in antiseptic, she could see the top of her brother's head through the small round window on the car door as he jumped to see what was happening, it reminded her of a lonely puppy, always wanting to be by your side.

"Now this may hurt a tiny bit." Miss Nightingale instructed her patient as she pulled a pair of long nosed tweezers from her bag. Watching the alien like device head towards her wound, Evie quietly whispered to Florence,

"Good thing you locked Jacob outside, he's terribly squeamish." Florence laughed as she gently dug the long slender tweezers into Evie's leg, rummaged around in the flesh and then slowly retracted, pulling out a small bullet. Evie felt her whole body go limp, she'd been tense for so long she'd forgotten she had feet.

Taking a huge breath of painful relief, the wounded femlae heard a loud thud outside of her door that made her prop herself up on her elbows. When Miss Nightingale opened the door, she found Jacob out cold.

"Ugh, what happened?" Jacob said sorely, rubbing the newly formed egg on his head.

"You feinted whilst watching my surgery." Evie giggled at him.

"…surgery?"

"Yes, don't you remember?" Evie smiled as she stuck the foot wrapped in gauze bandages under her brother's face.

"Oh, yea, how did it go?" Jacob asked half-heartedly, his head was pounding like his sister's foot as she slapped his chin with her toes.

"Well it turns out that it was only a pellet lodged in my leg, not an actual bullet, so I can do everything normally again. It only hurt because it hit very soft tissue."

"Oh, and Miss Nightingale put it in a jar of water and let me keep it!"

"Keep what?" her brother really wasn't good at listening.

"The bullet!" Evie said as she sloshed the jar around in Jacob's face.

"Look! You can still see a little bit of fat stuck to it!"

Jacob raised a hand to his mouth to stop himself from wrenching, but it was good to see his sister back in her assassin's garbs and on her feet. Evie smiled and sat down next to her brother, while Henry had been gone, she had shared with him the tale of her findings of Maggie, the chest, and all the Templar Letters, including the rumours of a new Grandmaster.

"Do you think it's true? Must we complete our quest all over again to end another crazy Templar reign?" she asked as she kicked off her other boot to begin poking Jacob's thigh.

"I don't know, but if it must be so, they'll be no match for the incredible Frye Twins!"

"So _modest."_ Evie laughed and began shaking the jar in Jacob's face again.

Just as Evie was toying with her brother, Henry walked into the carriage.

"Henry! Where have you been?"

"I met with Sgt Abberline, he told me some very disturbing information."

"What is it?" Jacob had suddenly abandoned his queasiness for a newly found sense of question.

"Fredrick told me that there have been recordings at the National Bank of England of a new name on the ownership papers of Starrick Industries."

"So it's true, there is a new Templar Grandmaster" Jacob said sadly.

"Yes, her name is Miss Cecelia Frost. Her name was on the registry papers in Starrick's will" Henry said whilst looking at Evie questioningly, eager to find out what happened to her leg, why his medical equipment was scattered across the floor, and also why she wasn't wearing shoes.

"How did you know there was a new Grandmaster?"

Evie noticed this and began putting her boots back on, before striding over to Henry.

"I think this might answer your question." She said as she handed him Maggie's letter.

After he read it, a small smile crept to the sides of his mouth. "So you spoke to Maggie?" he asked happily.

"No, I didn't."

"But I don't-"Henry began inquisitively, then looked back down to the letter, read the last paragraph, and looked again to Evie, with water eyes.

Evie slowly nodded "I'm so sorry Henry…"

Without hesitation, Henry wrapped his arms around the small girl's frame, burying his head into her shoulder. Evie, taken aback by this at first, hugged him back, surprised for Henry to be confiding so much emotion in her, but at the same time, expecting no less from the man who had lost a woman who was like a mother to him.

Henry realised what he had done and instantly let go, sending Evie back a few steps. "I am terribly sorry Miss Frye, I-just…"

Evie silenced him, telling him he need not explain himself, it was a hard situation for anyone. That being said, Evie wondered why Jacob had not yet shouted at 'Greenie' to unhand his sister or told Evie that she could do better, and when she glanced over at him, she realised that he had fallen asleep, and was thankful that he had.

Evie pulled the chest from her compartment and handed it to Henry. "This belonged to Maggie, she loved you very much."

Going through the chest, Henry smiled at the birthday cards and gifts he had given the old woman as a child.

Evie then handed him the photograph of Maggie and himself, and a single tear rolled down Henry's tanned cheek.

"I'm sorry, I apologise for my hysterical behaviour, it's just that,"

Evie cut him off, "It's ok, I understand exactly how you feel." And again they hugged, only this time Evie wrapped her tiny arms around his muscular torso as he rested his arms around hers. Shivers ran down her spine as she felt the warmth from his body radiate onto hers, and it didn't help that he was sweaty.

They stood in silence, and Evie could hear his heart beat as she propped her head against his chest.

She squeezed him tighter, letting her friend know that she cared, and that…

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what." She breathed into his shirt as he almost suffocated her in a death grip. Evie then began to feel the light pitter-patter of tears against her dark hair, she looked up to see tears dripping down Henry's face as his dark brown eyes stared down at her own.

"That's what Maggie used to say ."


End file.
